


Vantascest Is Wincest

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Becomes full consent later, M/M, Sorta kind of dubcon??, a bit of OOC, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Super ambiguous POV at all times ft. super cute red/pale KarKri yeah here I'm a sinner</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vantascest Is Wincest

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even like Supernatural

It’s an odd pairing, to be sure. He’s too coarse with his actions and words, and he’s too loquacious, never shutting up about his social justice issues, yet they work together almost perfectly. The only thing keeping it from being perfect is just how much taller one is than the other, and even that works to their advantage, most of the time. It works even more when he’s trying to get the other to shut up. A horn rub or two usually does the trick.

He remembers the first time he’d met his dancestor. Red, blindingly red sweater, tight leggings, a calm, almost emotionless expression as he’d rambled on and on and _on and on **and on and on**_ until he’d snapped, stomping off with the Maryam lookalike with his ears ringing from how much talking the other’d done.

Then they’d met a second time, and Karkat had kissed him before he could utter so much as another syllable.

He remembers it, still.

The way his face had flashed a bright red before calming down almost alarmingly quickly, then he’d grabbed Karkat by the shoulder and had pulled him into the hive that looks eerily similar to how his own looks, back in the regular, non-dream bubble world.

There, he’d been given the lecture of his short life, groaning internally as his ears start to ring once more and he finds himself growing irritated, a headache starting to form. But then he catches a word that he’s sure hadn’t been meant to escape from the speaker’s mouth, if the pink blush that rises to said speaker’s cheeks is any indication.

 

_“Wait a fucking minute, what’d you just say? Say that again, I couldn’t hear it over your incessant goddamned blathering on and on about shit that I couldn’t give less of a fuck about.”_

_In retrospect, he could’ve been a bit nicer about it all, but he was curious, and he doesn’t like to have answers withheld from him. That, and, he admits, the headache had been growing in intensity._

_“What? Oh, I said that I’m not even the slightest bit spades for you, but if you wished, we...we could give being pale a shot? I mean, I am a celibate, so I’m sure that it’d be a rather...unfulfilling matespritship for you, to say the least, but pale could help you with your anger issues and the such, Karkat.”_

_His face is dead serious as he speaks, only a hint of hesitation and embarrassment showing in the way his words falter several times in his miniature speech about quadrants with his blood relative._

_“...you realize that we’re practically fucking related, right?”  He tilts an eyebrow to gauge the reaction of the older, and to his surprise, he gets a serene nod in response._

_“Well, you did kiss me first, Karkat, so I had just immediately-”_

_“Hold it the fuck up, I kissed you to shut you up. But, I guess we could give it a try? I mean, not like you’re horrendously bad-looking or anything,” he adds on with a soft scoff to himself._

_With that, a slightly amused smile curls across his lips and he nods once more, amusement flashing in his ghost-white eyes. “Of course we could try, and thank you, I suppose, if my assumption of that being a compliment is correct. Regardless of whether or not it was, you are quite a looker as well,” he says with a chuckle. It isn’t mean-spirited in any way, he just seems to be enjoying this conversation, if anything._

_He thinks it’s the first time he’s seen the tightass actually show an emotion that isn’t the typical assholish ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude. He likes it._

 

He shakes himself out the reverie of the flashback, looking down at the sleeping, peaceful face of Kankri Vantas and petting his hair gently as he watches yet another shitty romcon.

Surprisingly, the other had been a huge fan, hooked from the start as he’d stared with rapt attention at the telegrub monitor.

A humorous scene comes up and he can’t help but to let out a short bark of a laugh, despite his attempts to keep quiet, not wishing to awaken Kankri. After glancing down briefly at him, he’s stirring, starting to wake up a bit and shifting in the taller’s lap.

“...whngh…” It’s the first thing he says when he’s finally fully conscious, blinking tiredly at Karkat’s thigh before turning to look up at the owner of the thigh. He smiles lightly. “...g’mornin’, Kark’t.”

The other’s words are slurred and he can’t help but to find that almost disgustingly adorable, the light flush on his cheeks and the way he’s licking his lips, then yawns, nose crinkling up as he does so. From this angle, he can see every little perfection and imperfection of his dancestor, and it’s wonderful. He’s wonderful. A swell of the reddest love and pity surges throughout him and he can’t help but to press a sweet, gentle kiss to Kankri’s mouth right then and there.

He just purrs softly and kisses back. It’d taken a bit, but he no longer acts horribly scandalized whenever Karkat kisses him.

He’d made sure of it, doing it every single moment that they weren’t busy doing something else. However, he’d done it the most while the other was ranting on. Of course, this lead to him speaking far more than he had before, and he has a feeling that it’s all somehow his own fault. He doesn’t mind; more stolen kisses for him, right?

Kankri just groans and stretches, then leans up to give him one more kiss, lasting for a split second longer before he pulls back and grins lazily up at Karkat. It’s almost as though he’s a completely different troll around the taller; relaxed, uncaring of how he appears or acts. He’s himself around Karkat, and the other can’t help but to find it endearing as all fuck.

He couldn’t ask for anything more than what he’s got now, even if it does only last as long as he’s asleep. He doesn’t mind it; absence increases fondness of the absent, and even though he’d thought it impossible to adore his dancestor any more than he already does, it applies in this situation.

He’s always there, waiting, though, so he doesn’t mind.

He doesn’t either.


End file.
